Castle of Water,Near Tanigakure,Land of Rivers, Summer-Winter 1430 PT.7

They pick her up lifeless, and for your days she does not move or stir, but then she comes out of her stupor and gets up slowly from her bed, patting herself all over, as if to make sure that she is whole. Amazingly, no bones have been broken in her fall- she has cracked her skull, nor snapped so much as a finger. It is as if her angels held her up, even when she gave herself into their element. Of course, this will not serve her; they are quick to say that only the Devil could have saved a girl who went headfirst like that from such a tall tower. If she had died they would have said God's justice had been done. My uncle, a man of dour common sense, says that the ground is so sodden, after weeks of winter rain, and lapped by moat, that she was in more danger of drowning than being broken; but now he is determined that she shall leave at once. He doesn't want the responsibility of the Maid in his house, without the Lady to keep everything safe. He sends her first to his house in Akita, then we follow, as she is transferred to the Fire city of Iwate for trial.

We have to attend. A great lord such as my uncle must be there to see justice being, done, and his household must stand behind him. My aunt Junko takes me to witness the end of the Prince's holy guide - the pretend-prophet of the pretend-king. Half of the Land of Rivers is trooping to Iwate to see the end of the Maid and we have to be foremost among them.

For someone that they declare is nothing more than a peasant girl run mad, they are taking no chances. She is housed in the Castle Shuri and kept in chains, in a cell with double locked door and the window boarded over. They are all in a terror that she will run like a mouse under the door, or fly like a bird through a crack in the window. They ask her to give an undertaking that she will not try to escape and, when she refuses, they chain her to the bed.

"She won't like that," my aunt Junko says sorrowfully.

"No."

They are waiting for the Duke of Konohagakure, and in the very last days of December he marches into the town with his guard dressed in the colours of roses, the bright red and white of the Land of Fire. He is a great man on horseback, he wears armour polished so brightly that you would take it for silver and beneath his huge helmet his face is grave and stern, his big break of a nose marking him look like predatory bird: an eagle. He was brother to the great Fire king Jimmu, and he guards the lands that his brother won in the Land of Rivers at the great battle of Wa.

Now the dead king's young son is the new victor of the Land of Rivers, and this is his most loyal uncle: seldom out of his armour or out of the saddle, never at peace.

We are all lined up at the great gate of Iwate as he rides in, and his dark gaze rakes us all, looking from one to another as if to sniff out treason. My aunt and I curtsey low and my uncle Junzo doffs his hat and bows. Our house been in alliance with the Land of Fire for years; my other uncle, Ryuu of Goto, is the duke's chancellor and swears that he is the greatest man ever to rule the Land of Rivers.

Heavily, he gets off his house and stands like a fortress himself, as the men line up to greet him, bowing over his hand, some of them almost going down to their knees. A man comes forwards and, as Konohagakure acknowledges him with a lordly tip on his head, his glance goes over his vassal's head, and sees me. I am staring at him, of course - he is the greatest spectacle on this cold winter day - but now he is looking back at me, and there is a flash in his eyes which I see and cannot recognise. It is something like a sudden hunger, like fasting man seeing a banquet. I step back. I am neither afraid nor coquettish, but I am only fourteen years of age and there is something about the power of this man and his energy that I don't want turned in my direction. I slide back a little so I am behind my aunt, and I watch the rest of the greeting masked by her headdress and veil.

A great litter comes up, thick curtains tied tight with gold cord against the cold, and Konohagakure's wife, the Duchess Atsuko, is helped out. A small cheer greets her from our men: she is of the House of Izumi, our liege lords and relations, and we all dip in a little bow to her. She is as plain as all the Saito family, poor things, but her smile is merry and kind, and she greets her husband warmly and then stands with her hand comfortably tucked in the crook of his arm and looks about her with a cheerful face. She waves at my aunt and points inside the castle to say that we must come to her later. "We'll go at dinnertime," my aunt says to me in a whisper. "Nobody in the world eats better than the Dukes of Izumi."

Konohagakure takes off his helmet and bows to the crowd in general, raises a gauntleted hand on the people who are leaning from upper windows and balancing on garden walls to see the great man. Then he turns and lead his wife inside and everyone has sense that we have seen the cast of players and opening scene of a travelling show. But whether it is a masque, or a party, funeral rites, or the baiting of a wild animal, that has brought so many of the greatest people In the Land of Rivers to Iwate: it is about to begin.